The Dark Lord and the Fallen Angel
by opkingfish
Summary: This is my first attempt at writing publicly. This is the first 500 words or so of the first chapter. If this gets an overall positive response, I will write more at a later date.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Introduction  
This is a crossover of the Harry Potter storyline and TV's Supernatural. These are both properties of their respective owners and I own no part of either of these entities. This is a fan-inspired story about what could have happened after Mr. Potter "killed" Lord Voldemort. This one is only going to be a few paragraphs to start with, then I will continue if anyone is interested.

Chapter 1  
As the Dark Lord lay disintegrating on the cobblestone of the courtyard, what little remained of his soul was detached from his body, looking down. A figure approached him from the darkness.  
"Who might you be?" Riddle inquired fearfully, weary of the figure's boldness when all others before would cower in his presence.  
This figure was wearing a 3-piece suit with a tie that was as black as his eyes. His skin was sunken and mellow, as if he had spent too much time in the sun at a young age.  
"My name is Brian. I am what you would call a Reaper, and I am an agent of Death. You have cheated us long enough, Riddle. There is much to discuss."  
"But...how? I don't understand. I was supposed to be invincible. No one should have been able to defeat me, and certainly not some young brat with barely any magical experience!"  
"He won because you were too ignorant of your own weaknesses. But that is in the past, yes? There are many who need to talk with you about your past actions to cheat both Death and Fate."  
And so Lord Voldemort went unwillingly, yearning to go back into his body and kill the Boy Who Lived.

Meanwhile across the Atlantic Ocean, Sam and Dean Winchester were finishing up dispatching a nest of vampires.  
"You know, these fangs certainly seemed to have gone willingly", said Sam.  
"Well, some of these vamps were approaching their 1200th birthdays, so that might have something to do with it", replied Dean, loading the weapons he was holding into the hidden arsenal of his 1967 Chevy Impala.  
"Either way, we've earned ourselves a drink. Let's go to Bobby's?"  
"You betcha." Dean felt his phone vibrate. "Speak of the devil, so that he might appear. Yeah, Bobby, go ahead."  
"Whatever you idjits just did, you have just kicked up a hornet's nest. There are demonic omens going all up and down both coasts as well as parts of Britain."  
"All we did was get rid of a few vamps...Wait, did you just say Britain?"  
"Yeah, I have a few contacts in Scotland and Dublin that are saying the monsters there have increased dramatically in the past couple of days. Get your arses back here."  
"Yeah we'll be right there in an hour or two."  
While on the way to Sioux Falls, Dean says, "It just doesn't make any sense. Why would a nest of low-level vampires in Ramona, South Dakota kick up dust all the way over the pond?"  
"I don't know", said Sam, "but I have a feeling like we're both about to be handed a new one."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Approaching Bobby's desk, the two brothers heard Bobby speaking on the phone.

"Yeah, Colin thanks for the update. Yeah, I'll call you if I hear anything from on our end." Bobby hangs up the phone and pours a fifth of whiskey. "So, you boys want to fill me in on what you did?"

"Well, Uncle Bobby, we were just cleaning up a nest of fangs. Nothing real special."

"Alright, I'm not sure who you were messing with, but you've just stirred up the hornet's nest. We have an increase in monster activity in Europe, freak electrical storms in the US and Canada, and mass disappearances in Mexico and Central America. Is there anything you can tell me about the vamps?"

"Well, some of them had a brand on the side of their neck. Like a cats eye inside of a triangle. We were actually we wondering if you could tell us anything about it."

Bobby took out a piece of paper and fished out a pen from his desk.

"It looked like this?" He held up the paper.

"Yeah, exactly like that," affirmed Dean.

"Ah schittt." Bobby closed his eyes for a minute.

"What is it Bobby?" asked Sam.

"That, you idjits, is the mark of the Triple Manifest."

"Triple Manifest? Never heard of it."

"Yes you have. The mark of the Triple Manifest is an ancient Gaelic rune that roughly means 'Controller of Death' or 'Master of Immortality', all depending on which translation you prefer. You might know of it as the mark of the Deathly Hallows."

"Wait, so those vamps were followers of...Castion?"

"Yes, the Dark Ages warlock from the late 1300s. He was the most feared wizard before Gellert Grindlewald and Tom Marvolo Riddle himself. He chose this symbol as his...calling card, if you will. He rose to power by making a deal with a demon. After his death, naturally, he became a demon as well as Master of Monsters on Earth."

"So what does this mean?" asked Dean.

"It means that we will need to start corresponding with our brothers and sisters worldwide. I'm not talking just the UK and Canada, but also Eastern Europe, Russia, Africa, and South America. It also wouldn't hurt to reach out to Abdullah and Madhi from the Middle East. It hasn't even been six hours since that happened and we are already having freak electrical storms in the UK and US, cattle mutations in the Deep South and Mexico, as well as mass disappearances and possessions worldwide. Of course, I got my feelers out, but at this point, that's just going to tell us stuff we already know. Go to my safehouse in Northern Wisconsin. I have some heavier weapons that might come in handy later. Be careful bringing those across state lines."

Blackness. The smell of rotting and burning flesh assaulted Riddle's senses. Somewhere in the background, Riddle could hear the sound of metal chains rattling, human screams, and what he could only describe as demonic laughter.

"Stop skulking like a quivering handmaiden, Riddle. Come here, we have much to discuss."

"Where is that man I was just walking with?"Riddle asked fearfully, approaching the edge of the darkness.

"Oh, the Reaper? I did away with him. Not to worry, he will not bother you anytime soon, not as long as I am with you. But that is neither here nor there."

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, yet I do not know yours." said Riddle.

"Oh, my. Where are my manners. Crowley, former King of the Crossroads and current King of Hell, at your service."

"And what do you want with me, uhh, Crowley?"

"Oh, I just want to have a little chat with you about how you have been managing to cheat both death and fate for all these years when you should have been dead long ago."

"Why is everyone hung up on this immortality thing? Besides, that is a long story."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, this is my domain, and we have nothing but time. Go ahead, start talking."

"Alright, to give you a full scope, I have to explain to you the story of the Peverell brothers and the actions of my filthy mother and father prior to my birth in the Yorkshire village of Little Hangleton."


End file.
